


A sexual exploration

by SSF88



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4054207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SSF88/pseuds/SSF88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock needs more data about sex. For a case!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A sexual exploration

**Author's Note:**

> This is just filth with a little bit of plot put in as an excuse to get to the filth. I am not sorry.
> 
> Any criticism is greatly appreciated! 
> 
> If you see spelling errors or grammar mistakes you are also very welcome to leave a message. English is not my first language. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy. :)

***

Sherlock jumps out of the cap and strides determinately towards the crime scene, the cold drizzle clinging to his curls and making his cheeks go a faint pink. There is a sound of hurried determent footsteps coming from behind.

“Thanks for leaving me to pay for the bloody cap again Sherlock!” John half yells as he catches up to Sherlock in a jog. They are hurrying down the pavement on a residential suburban road. The cabbie didn’t want to risk having to back out all the way back because of all the police commotion, so he had dropped them at the nearest adjoining road.

“No time John!” exclaims Sherlock with glee in his expression. “This is at least an 8 John, at least!” “Decapitated heads, but no bodies.” “Oh let it be something clever.” “Maybe a nice serial killer!” Sherlock says excitedly, gesticulating with his hand in such a way that John has to step into a puddle to avoid getting his eye poked out in the process.

“Sherlock!” Great now his sock is wet.

“Sorry” Sherlock says distractedly, long legs closing the last distance to the crime scene. John doesn’t particularly think he is though.

Sally lifts the wet police tape for Sherlock and John to get under, giving them both pointed looks and a raised eyebrow. “Afternoon boys.” As if hoping her tone can somehow make a difference to Sherlock’s behaviour. Sherlock just rolls his eyes and heads straight for the entrance of the house where officers are already milling to and from.

“Sally” John greets and gives a half smile in apology for Sherlock.

Sally takes the communicator on her shoulder: “They’re here” she sighs.

***

When John gets inside the first thing he sees is Lestrade’s exasperated visage. “He’s already down there harassing the forensic team.” He points towards the open basement door just round the left corner of the entrance hallway. “Couple who owns the house have been murdered.” “Only their heads left.” Lestrade says, looking at John ruefully. “Poor bastards.”

“Right” John says, thinking he has spent too much time with Sherlock when such a statement doesn’t give him more pause.

“Out, out, out!” “You are all muddling the picture!” Sherlock voice is clearly heard from the basement.

“Oh for heaven’s sake..” They can hear Anderson, clearly ready to argue.

Leastrade gives a heavy sigh mostly through his nose. “Oh, just let him have his space!” He yells down the stairs. “Or, we’ll never hear the end of it.” He mutters looking out from under his eyebrows at John, hands on his hips.

John Chuckles at Lestrade.

One of the forensic team comes trudges up the stairs, looking glad to be out of Sherlock’s way. Anderson tramples up shortly after and heads directly out without looking at either John or Lestrade. Lestrade gives a little eye roll.

“Well are you joining him?” Lestrade asks.

John Shrugs. “I’ll better go see” He smiles a jovial smile and goes towards the stairs.

***

The basement is a sight indeed. It’s a windowless room painted completely red, including ceiling and floor. Blood red in fact. The room is clearly lit with lights put in by the forensic team, but one can easily imagine it normally being lit in a more mellow dramatic lighting.

The purpose of the room is obviously for sex. Some kind of dungeon BDSM fantasy. John is not clear on all the correct labels. There are chains hanging from the ceiling, cuffs and manacles, a black wooden cross for binding a person in one end, benches and swings. A steel cage. The entire far wall from the door is cowered in shelves where upon there is rows and rows of toys, more chains, whips etc. John is not even certain he knows what half of it is for.

The middle shelves have had a little space cleared and now two heads are placed there almost with reverent care, as if someone has chosen the best place to put their china figurines. Their eyes and mouths are sewn shut with black thick thread.

Sherlock is standing very close to the heads, bending forward slightly. He is using his small magnifying glass to see something in the hair on the female head. John swears he sees Sherlock’s nose touch her forehead.  
“John!” Sherlock swirls as john reaches the bottom of the stairs, his coat almost tipping a large dark blue dildo behind him. “This is perfect!”

“How so?” John says doubtfully looking at the scene with raised eyebrows.

“Look!” He says excitedly gesturing to the heads. “This is some kind of ritual.” “I’m Sure.” “Look at the way the eyelids and mouths are sewn together.” “This could very well be a serial killer!”. “Oh isn’t it delightful?” Sherlock says clapping his hands together one time, like he has just gotten a particularly clever present.

“I’m not sure that’s how I would put it.” John murmurs

“Hmm? Oh don’t be boring John” Sherlock says looking up from a hook of some sort lying on the shelf near the male head to the left.

“Sooo, it’s some kind of serial killer, who what? Targets sexual deviants or some such?” John tries as a Joke.

“Yes, well that is the question isn’t it?” Sherlock says seriously. “Why these people John?” “Why this room?” “AND!” Sherlock states triumphantly with a finger in the air. “Where are the bodies and all the blood?” “There is not a single drop.”

Which was true, the wooden shelves did not look as though there was anything on them. Well besides the heads. “I’m guessing the fluorescent lights didn’t pick up on anything then?”

“No, so they must have been killed somewhere else.” “There must be a reason he choose to put them back here though.” Sherlock starts to walk around the room and mutter too himself: “Why put them back here?” “What is the reason?” “Is he trying to tell us something?”

“He?”

“What?” Sherlock murmurs.” “Oh, well yes, statistically speaking.” “Do keep up John!”

“Right, yes” “Uhm, so is it a sex thing then?”

“I don’t have all the data” He bites frustratedly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just..” Sherlock gestures around with a frown on his face.

“Not your area?” John’s mouth threatens to quirk into a smile. Not appropriate at a crime scene he reminds himself.

“Well no.” Sherlock looks annoyed with this. “Hence I need more data.” He says now scowling at a metal contraption of some sort.

If John should hazard a guess he would say it’s some kind of cock cage.

Sherlock starts busying himself with snapping pictures of everything in the room, so John pokes around a bit on his own. Just as John is amusing himself with looking at a penis-shaped dolphin Sherlock whirls around and heads towards the stairs.

“Come along John!” “We have much to do!”

***


End file.
